Heroes' Reward (21 page)

The Premier Pair
were waiting with the Commissioner, as well as Deputy Commissioner Khouri and a
soldier I hadn’t been introduced to.

Not bothering
with any greetings or expression of relief at our return, the Commissioner
asked, “Well?”

“It worked,”
Taro answered. “I think.”

The Commissioner
raised an eyebrow at him.

Taro gave him
the details of the encounter. The Commissioner interrupted a few times, asking
questions. He seemed satisfied with our results. He was particularly interested
in our ability to cripple the horses.

I let myself
wince when they discussed that part.

Once it was
clear that the Commissioner was finished with us, Sato said to me, “You’ll be
escorted to your tent so you can rest. Then we’ll be discussing your time with
Gifford.”

I wanted to
sigh. Of course we would. And, really, I knew it was necessary. It was just
that it was going to take
hours.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Taro and I had
nothing with us. Not even a brush for our hair. We’d been pulled away with the
clothes we wore, our purses, and the pouch that held my store of casting supplies.
If bedding and a lantern hadn’t been supplied, the tent would have been
empty.When we sat on the floor, I was almost ready to cry.

But I wasn’t
given the chance. The entrance to our tent was flipped open. Aryne charged in,
Druce following more sedately.

Aryne didn’t
wait for me to stand. She just bowled me over in a tackle. “Leavy!”

“What the hell
are you doing here?” I demanded in shock.

“Love you, too,
Leavy. Shintaro!”

Taro was
prepared and larger than me so he didn’t end up in an undignified sprawl on the
floor.

Aryne had gotten
taller.

“Good day,
Druce,” I said, and she smiled. “I’m sorry we have nothing to offer you.” Not
even water.

She shrugged as
she sat on the floor, folding her legs. “This one should be in bed but she
insisted on seeing you first.”

“Don’t say
this
one
like that,” Aryne snipped. “You’re not my mother.”

“We should all
be in bed,” said Taro. He put a hand on Druce’s shoulder. “Druce, it isn’t
actually good to see you. Why are you two here?”

“Everyone
finally admitted I’m part of the Imperial family,” Aryne announced. “Took them
long enough.”

“Long enough?” I
echoed.

“It wasn’t as
though I didn’t already know. There were a thousand hints. Bringing me to the
Empress was an enormous one.”

I couldn’t deny
that. “But you kept it to yourself all this time? You never wrote about it.”

“Shintaro told
me not to. Not to write anything, not to tell anyone. I mean, not about that
specific thing, because
that
he didn’t tell me.” She shot Taro a hard
look. “Just anything that made me appear really different from the others.
Though I told Druce, of course.”

“And you
believed her?” I asked Druce.

That prompted
another slight smile from Aryne’s Source. “My life was thrown off axis from the
moment I was shoved off my feet by this one. It wasn’t hard to believe she was
strange in other ways. And it was a good thing I did. All her crazy stories
turned out to be true.”

Taro was getting
impatient. “This doesn’t explain why you’re
here
. It’s too dangerous.”

“Their plan is
to get Gifford off the throne,” Aryne said baldly. “They figure I might be able
to replace him. They’ve been training me up for years, haven’t they? This one,”
she gestured at Druce, “got into it, too. I never had any fun at all.”

“Don’t get used
to exaggerating,” Druce warned her. “It’s not persuasive outside of a play.”

Aryne stuck her
tongue out at her. “They figure I’ve got a chance. I’ve got the right blood. I
know the code. They’ve been preparing me for it.”

Most
titleholders had a family code, passed down – usually – from titleholder to
heir. Sometimes the titleholder told more than one person, heir or not. Taro’s
mother had gotten her hands on the Karish code, despite being passed over by
the earlier titleholders, Taro’s father and elder brother. She had been able to
give it to Taro, expecting that he would use it to get the Westsea title. He
hadn’t been chosen by the Duke as an heir, either, but many would have seen him
as the natural recipient.

I’d never
understood why the Dowager Duchess hadn’t used the code herself, why she hadn’t
wanted the title. She could have taken it.

Most families
kept a solicitor who always knew the code, to confirm the right of the heir to
inherit. Instead of meeting the Karish solicitor, Taro had given the code to
Fiona.

Solicitors who
tried to take advantage of their knowledge to get a title usually landed in
prison. Anyone else with the code had at least a shot at the title, heir or
not.

While Taro had
known the Imperial code for years – Empress Constia had told him – I never had.
It was his secret to keep. But as far as I had known, he hadn’t told anyone
else, either. “When did you give Aryne the code?” I asked him.

“I told the
council,” he answered. “Once we were in Shidonee’s Gap and they informed us of
their plans, I felt I had to tell them.”

But he hadn’t
told me.

I would let it
pass. He had a good reason, I had no doubt.

Taro turned back
to Aryne. “But why are you
here
?”

“If they take
Gifford from his position,” Druce said, “the council want to replace him with
Aryne immediately, get her settled while the Premiers are still in Erstwhile.
They don’t want to risk having to send for her. With so much distance to
travel, something might happen to her on the way. Or there might be some kind
of coup in Erstwhile during the wait.”

“The Triple S
council seems certain of their success,” Taro commented.

“They can’t
afford to fail. Gifford can’t be left on the throne.”

Sometimes I
wished I’d been born earlier, lived more of my life under the Empress’ reign.
She’d been much more sane.

“And what about
you, little one?” Taro asked Aryne. “Do you even want this?”

I was ashamed
that I’d never thought to ask her that myself.

She looked down
at her boot and picked at a seam with the tip of her finger. “It’s not like
there’s anything else I can do,” she muttered.

An Empress who
didn’t want to rule. At least she wouldn’t be a power-hungry maniac. We didn’t
need another one of those. On the other hand, she might try to avoid
responsibilities because she didn’t want to bear them.

Well, I wouldn’t
want to be stuck in Erstwhile for the rest of my life, either, dealing with all
those politicians and Council members. I was looking forward to being
transferred back to Flown Raven.

“But Druce,”
said Taro, “why have they brought you? Do they know you’re Bonded?”

“Kai,” said
Aryne. “We told them when they were talking about sending me here. We were
going to tell them soon, anyway. They were thinking about giving up on sending
Druce to Matchings because she’s getting so old.”

Druce lightly
swatted her up the back of her head. Aryne grinned at her.

“How are you two
doing?” I asked. “Are you getting enough to eat?”

Druce frowned.
“Aye.” Her tone suggested it was an odd question.

“The shortage of
supplies is a constant problem for Gifford,” I explained.

“We heard he was
stealing everything he could get his hands on.”

“Aye. He started
out with a great deal, too. It hasn’t been enough.”

“Aren’t people
sending him supplies?” Aryne asked.

I frowned.
“Sending him supplies?”

“People have
been helping us of their own accord.” Aryne turned to Taro. “Like your cousin,
Lady Westsea. She’s sent a whole lot of things. Dried meat and fruit and
cheese. Leather, cotton, and linen. Horses. And people. Huge people who could
probably pound anyone into the ground. And blacksmiths, cobblers, all sorts.”

Then she
gestured at me. “The Malloroughs, they sent goods and people, too. So did a
family of traders called Bisher. And another group called Lightor.” My family
did business with both of them. “A bunch of others. And some Marcus Pride
fellow. Were you really going to marry him?” She scowled at me.

I was too
flabbergasted to address that accusation. “Since when did everyone love the
Triple S so much?”

Druce tilted her
head. “I don’t think it’s about the Triple S. I think it’s about you and
Shintaro.”

“I can’t believe
all of these people would give so much to the Triple S because of Taro and me.”

“Healer Browne
told us Lord Tarce returned to Flown Raven saying Gifford had gone crazy,
changing all of the laws and executing titleholders. Even though many people
are disenchanted with the Triple S, few believe we’re violating the law. We
still perform our duties, where Gifford is seen to be abandoning his. The
Triple S provides an essential service. A monarch can be replaced.”

That last
sentiment chilled me, just a little. “That doesn’t have anything to do with
Taro and me, specifically.”

“Many feel it
does,” said Druce. “It started with your families, right? Then their friends.
They influenced others, convincing people that it was in their best interest to
support the Triple S.”

It was
overwhelming to learn people thought so well of Taro and me that they would get
involved in something as horrible as an actual war. I would feel responsible
for every life lost.

“They won’t let
Druce and me do anything, though,” Aryne complained. I got the feeling this was
on ongoing annoyance to her.

“She’s
disappointed that she doesn’t get to wear the uniform,” Druce added with a
grin.

Aryne pushed her
over.

Druce pushed
back. “They want to make sure she isn’t confused with one of the soldiers.”

“Good,” I said.

Aryne lifted her
chin stubbornly. “There are people younger than me fighting.”

“They’re
fighting for you. It’s all meaningless if you’re killed.”

“Still doesn’t
seem right.”

“Sometimes
common sense must rule over principle,” I said.

Aryne scowled.

“Time for bed
for all of us.” Taro clapped his hands. “We have no idea what’s going to happen
tomorrow. We might get dragged out of our tents in an hour or two.”

Aryne rolled her
eyes. “Fine. Father.”

“It’ll be decent
to give Carl and Jyle a rest, too,” said Druce. She then explained, “They’ve
got some people following us around to make sure Aryne stays out of trouble.”

“We’re not
supposed to know,” Aryne added. “They think we don’t notice we’ve got two
bruisers following us everywhere we go. Why does everyone think we’re stupid?”

“They think
you’re young,” I said.

“That’s supposed
to be the same thing?”

“To some
people.”

Druce had been
looking about. “Do you two need anything? Your tent looks a little barren.”

“Right now, all
we need is sleep,” Taro answered pointedly.

“Aye, aye,
relax,” said Aryne, and they left.

I really hated
that they were there. I didn’t care how many people were guarding them,
watching them. They would be a particular target.

Because if the
Triple S and its followers knew that Aryne was of Imperial blood, so did
Gifford and Green. I had no doubt of it.

I sat beside
Taro, putting my head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around my waist. We
were finally out from under Gifford’s thumb. I had come to believe it would never
happen.

But it had. All
because Taro was good at flirting.

Chapter Twenty-Six

I was yanked
from my sleep by a hand shaking my shoulder. I was disoriented. It was dark. It
took too much time to understand what was being shouted at me.

“Move it! They’re
coming!”

But it was
night. It had been raining for three days. It made no sense for them to – What
were they doing, attacking? Taro and I got in each other’s way as we struggled
out of our blankets.

They felt damp.
Everything felt damp. And the black leather uniform that had been imposed upon
me was a terribly uncomfortable thing to wear, night and day, surrounded by
rain and mud.

Taro looked
gorgeous in it, though. It matched his colouring and made him look sharp and
dangerous.

I grabbed up my
pouch of casting ingredients. Taro and I stepped out of our tent and into
pandemonium. Dark figures running around. Orders – some of them conflicting –
were being shouted from everywhere. The few lanterns bobbing about barely cut
the pitch-black air.

“What’s going on?”
Taro demanded of the woman who had roused us.

“They’re
attacking! Get moving!”

After the first
clash, the Commissioner had chosen not to retreat so far as Slick Side, only as
far as a nameless part of the plain that enabled us to cast again. During that
time, Taro and I had been busy. We met with the Commissioner, his adjuncts,
Murdoch, and the Premier Pair. Much of our time involved briefings on how the
various units of the Triple S forces were organized and to be used during a
clash, including the Pairs and casters.

I had asked the
Commissioner about Mazin and Postel. They’d run off shortly after they’d
learned they wouldn’t be getting any of the things Taro had promised them.
Possibly back to Gifford, to tell him everything about our forces. They’d have
to admit to helping us escape, though. I didn’t think that would be too healthy
for them.

I worked with
the casters, learning what they could do all over again. I was a little worried
that while their power behind their casts was stronger, they hadn’t developed
any new spells.

The group had
changed a little since I’d worked at them at Shidonee’s Gap. Some people had
left, some new people had joined. What was surprising was learning that Fiona
had sent ten casters to us. I never would have expected that, despite the
generosity she had already shown.

Kebit and Ming
weren’t among their number.

I hunted down
Risa, who was in good spirits. While she had plenty of complaints about the
difficulties involved in the journey from Shidonee’s Gap, her enthusiasm for
the confrontation itself was undiminished.

My mind was
skittering all over the place. I needed to focus on what was going on right
now.

The other Pairs
surrounded us.

“You all know
what to do,” said Taro.

“It’s raining,”
said Devereaux. “We didn’t prepare for rain. Some of our tactics might not
work.”

“I know,” Taro
conceded. “We might need to improvise. We’ll start off according to plan and
see where it goes from there. Just remember to focus on the Pairs. Let the
soldiers handle the soldiers and the casters handle the casters. Let’s get
moving.”

Gods, this was
all insane.

The Pairs were
arranged to stand behind a single line of infantry. The idea, I’d been told,
was that the soldiers were to protect us from physical attack, but would be
able to quickly move out of the way should the Pairs – and the casters, lined
up to the right of us – need to see what we were doing to act. There were
another three rows of infantry behind us, and we were to let them through to
fight with the others, should it become necessary.

Strands of my
unbound hair, rain soaked, slid into my face and wouldn’t stay behind my ears
when I tried to tuck them out of my way. Damned stuff. I should cut it off.
When I got a chance. If I got a chance.

And then I saw
it. Light. Not lanterns, not fire. A sort of glowing cloud that seemed to be
creeping towards us, perhaps two dozen armlengths above the ground,
illuminating everything below it. It was the result of a spell created by
Gifford’s casters, I could feel it. A cast I’d never heard of. Damn it.

But after a few
terror-struck moments, I could see the effects weren’t perfect. The light
created weird shadows that made it difficult to focus completely on the figures
moving about. And once the two forces clashed, the light would help us just as
much as it helped them.

Our Pairs and
casters weren’t riding this time. All of the horses had been reserved for the
cavalry.

“Arms!” a
lieutenant called out, and I heard the slither of rapiers being pulled free.

Lanterns
flickered five times, and we started running towards Gifford’s force, slipping
in the mud.

Time twisted and
tore. I couldn’t guess how long it took for the two groups of soldiers to meet.
But meet they did, attacking each other with their weapons. Some engaged in
what looked like the sort of encounters one might see on the stage, an
elaborate dance of attacks and counterattacks. Others had their swords slapped
out of their hands. Sometimes a fighter was stabbed after this. Sometimes the
two figures ended up grappling with each other on the ground.

I saw some
soldiers standing over fallen opponents, kicking them in the face again and
again. I saw eyes being gouged out. I saw blood spurting from slit throats. The
blood looked black under the weird light cast by the unnatural cloud.

Orders were
being shouted from every direction. I couldn’t tell which came from our people
and which came from Gifford’s. I ignored them all.

The cavalry on
both sides were afraid to move quickly, all of them aware of the ability of the
Pairs to trip them up.

The ground
shifted beneath us, and Taro almost fell as his feet sank into a newly created
hole. This was immediately followed by his being encircled by a tight cyclone.
Two of the soldiers in front of us noticed and shifted as though to come closer
to us.

“No!” I said
sharply. They would only get caught up in the cyclone and get in our way.

I stayed a
couple of feet away myself, difficult though that was. I needed to keep clear
of the cyclone, too. “Taro!” I shouted.

Despite the din,
he heard me, lifting his head in my direction. He took the risk of lowering his
protections.

I raised my
Shields. I could feel that two Sources were attacking Taro at once. They’d
gotten better at working together, apparently. Taro split his attention,
fending off both of his attackers. Barely.

“Little help
here!” Taro called out.

There were
cyclones happening all around us while the ground continued to shift and break
apart. Everyone had their own battles. But Santham on one side and Devereaux on
the other spread their focus, their minds merging with Taro’s, and all three of
them held off all of their attackers. The ground beneath of all us stilled and
the cyclone around Taro disappeared.

The Pairs around
us were varied in their success. Some were effective in disabling Gifford’s Pairs,
some were whipped off their feet by cyclones and swung into the people around
them. The sight of it was disheartening.

Our casters
attacked Gifford’s casters with black clouds. Gifford’s casters responded in
the same manner. Right beside me people were collapsing, shrieking and twisting
in agony, and there was nothing I could do for them.

I stared at the
casters on Gifford’s side. Could I risk trying to cast while protecting Taro?

And then one of
Gifford’s casters – Dench – seemed to aim a cloud at another caster, one of his
own, calmly watching her die.

It looked like
he had deliberately attacked one of his own people.

That couldn’t be
right. I was just confused by all the commotion.

We weren’t
winning this clash, despite our superior number of Pairs and casters. Something
was going wrong.

We had
underestimated the abilities of Gifford’s people. Badly.

Another black
cloud appeared, but not around any of our casters. Around five of our soldiers,
all within a single cloud. All of them reduced to screaming at once, trying to
scrape the lightning bolts from their skin. The cloud shifted as they moved,
stretching around them as they fell.

My gods. I’d
never thought of a cloud surrounding more than one person at a time. Why hadn’t
I? It seemed such an obvious progression.

How was it being
done? Was one caster strong enough to do it, or had they finally embraced the
value of working in unison, enabling them to come up with something even more
awful than all of the awful casts I’d seen developed?

Or was it the
ashes? Were the ashes working?

Screaming. I was
surrounded by screaming. It flooded my mind. Tears coated my eyes. I couldn’t
do this.

If they could
kill our soldiers by the handful, our Pairs and casters would quickly be
vulnerable to physical attack, in addition to everything else.

Maybe. I didn’t
know.

Screaming. I
couldn’t bear it. I almost covered my ears.

Hang on to
Taro and don’t let go.

Taro would be a
target soon. The most important Source. The casters couldn’t seem him, yet,
there were too many soldiers around us, but once the casters determined where
he was in the group, they would take down the soldiers shielding him and they
would set their clouds on him.

So I had to do
something to them, something
they
had never imagined.

And the idea
came to me. It was a horrible idea. Not the first time I’d had it, though.

I grabbed Taro’s
arm. “Creol!” I shouted into his ear.

He stiffened,
then nodded. That one word was all he’d needed to hear. The experience had left
a mark on him, too. He lowered his shields.

A moment later,
he said, “I can’t find Tenneson.”

This suggested
Tenneson wasn’t participating in the clash. I would wonder why later.

“Segal?” I
suggested. Segal had been the second-best Source within Gifford’s group.

Taro didn’t
speak, he just let the forces flow.

Through him, I
found Segal, fighting a tightly bound hurricane. Through Segal, I found Segal’s
Shield, Orien, and her protections around him. Shields needed to be able to
allow the forces to flow through the Source, to some extent, while keeping the
undirected forces, those untouched by the Source, from falling into the vacuum
created by the Source’s interference. It was a difficult balance to maintain,
and if it went wrong, the uncontrolled forces would crush the Source.

I had discovered
a way to interfere with another Shield’s protections. I could prevent the
forces being channelled from leaving the Source’s mind and body.

So I did. I
trapped within Segal the forces he was trying to manipulate. Immediately, they
began to coil within hm, pressing for an escape.

Shields didn’t
combat each other, they only helped their Sources work. Orien didn’t understand
what I was doing, and she clearly didn’t know how to respond.

The interior
forces began to build up within Segal, trying to break out. The exterior forces
pushed in. They pressed against my Shields, which stretched out and became
thin.

Segal tried to
break off the engagement himself, without success. Caught between the external
forces and the Shields placed by Orien and me, he was helpless.

His heart began
to tear, struggling to control blood bearing against weakening veins. His brain
expanded, crushing itself against the inside of his skull. Harder and harder
and harder.

The soldiers
immediately before me dropped, surrounded by a cloud. I had to ignore them.

Creol had been
out of my sight when I had done this to him. This time, I could see the result
of my actions. I could see Segal well enough to see his body explode. The skin
over his stomach erupted first, right through his clothing, exposing ropy
innards that slithered to his feet. Then his skull burst open, bone flying out.

I couldn’t
believe one person could carry so much blood and meat, or that it could fly so
far.

The only thing
that kept me from vomiting was the need to keep Shielding Taro.

Segal’s Shield,
right beside him, was coated in blood and gore. A moment later, she collapsed.
Dying, if not already dead.

She wasn’t the
only one to be covered with chunks of another human being. Some of those
standing closest to Segal disintegrated into hysterics, screaming and scraping
at their skin. Shields were dropping their protections, I could perceive it
from their body language. Their unguarded Sources collapsed, looking oddly
crushed, as though their flesh had been pressed together, their bones
shattered.

Their Shields
would die, too. Some, immediately. Others would linger in fear and agony for
some unpredictable length of time before they too succumbed.